


The One About Spencer the Fairy Godparent

by dapatty



Series: that werewolf!verse [7]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One About Spencer the Fairy Godparent

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful [onceuponamoon](onceuponamoon.livejournal.com). You are lovely.

Spencer had always been told that with great power comes great responsibility. Which was bullshit and not-bullshit at the same time. Because, while he did not ask to be born to two respectable members of the Fairy Godparent Community and members of the supernatural elite at large, he still was and was able to do a lot of magical shit that regular kids just couldn’t—much to his frustration, because the only thing he’d ever really wanted to do was to be in a band and play drums and have someone to take care of. 

His parents, for the most part, have been supportive of his musical inclinations. They understood the nature of dreams and how those dreams can have power and sometimes you just have to follow your best friend, because who else should play drums for Ryan’s band. Seriously. But mostly, they were parents and although they had been fighting their entire lives for a Fairy Godparent’s right to choose their own Charges and to do away with the arcane system and to find something that would work in this modern era. They always wanted what was best for their children. And maybe they wanted Spencer to find some nice girl, or boy, fellow fae and settle down and pick up their cause where they left off, but beggars couldn’t be choosers -- even if they were tempted to use magics and charm Fate.

No matter how liberal they were, how forward thinking, Spencer was never going to tell them that he and Brendon were in a relationship. Mainly because of the whole falling-in-love-with-your-charge –which was the most cliché thing, really. It wasn’t just that, it was falling in love with your charge who also happens to be a werewolf thing. They just wouldn’t be able to swallow that. It would probably be the werewolf thing that would throw them over the edge. It was all just a little pedestrian and why couldn’t Spencer just fall in love with a nice human girl or boy at least. You know, less pet hair to deal with, magic or not. 

Even if he was sure they knew he loved Brendon. That wasn’t a secret to anyone really. He’d pretty much loved Brendon since the moment he walked into the garage all those years ago with his stupid hair and dorky glasses and this desperate need thrumming underneath his skin. It was terribly cliché really, but Spencer wasn’t human and just as susceptible to love at first sight as any other magical creature, which sucked, for so many reasons. Lots. Seriously. 

Well, for one, it had been frustrating because mostly Spencer had no idea if Brendon was even interested in him romantically, at least half the time, or if Brendon just needed to be in someone’s personal space and he preferred Spencer’s personal space. But mainly, Spencer wanted to take care of Brendon and decided that compartmentalizing things had worked to that point in his life. So he put his love in a box and only took it out to look at occasionally. He should have been paying attention though, because after the band split and he followed Brendon without second thought, he might have to admit to himself that he never really had a box to begin with.

*****

The thing about taking charges, as a fairy godparent, was that before, a fairy had no choice. None at all. Not in location, or age of either you or your charge, need level, or person type. Usually the people needing to be taught how to take care of themselves were those so over-privileged and out-of-touch that being assigned a charge was like being sent off to indentured servitude. Being sent to Azkaban inside the Harry Potter books would have been better, or chucked into Mordor. Luckily that forced placement wasn’t the way it worked anymore. Spencer wasn’t given a charge. He never even had to take one. 

But the thing was about being a fairy godparent was that you were going to pick up a charge whether you meant to or not, even if you’d never thought about making it official. It was simply in your blood and what your magic was most inclined to do. Especially if you weren’t paying attention. 

It was so natural, watching out for Brendon, making sure the impossible spastic little fuck ate and slept enough, which was next to impossible the last year of high school when Brendon lived in his own little shitty apartment. It was easy when it kept being more. But really, Spencer hadn’t meant to care so much, so fast. He hadn’t meant to fall in love and he hadn’t meant to take Brendon Urie as his charge. It was unforgivable to do both at the same time. Completely, which meant that he was just that much more determined to hold onto it, even if it meant sharing Brendon with Sarah. She was like sunshine and Spencer loved her more than a little too.

*****

Spencer had learned that no matter how much you care, how much you try, you can’t protect someone from everything. Sometimes you can’t even help them. Ryan never said as much, but Spencer was sure that Ryan hated him a little for not magically fixing everything when they were growing up. But there are some things that just can’t be fixed. Some things are irrevocably broken and cannot be mended with household magic. Spencer’s magic was mostly kitchen based and practical. He did not have Major Potential, he was pretty sure. Because with Major Potential came a higher responsibility threshold. Spencer would have ended up properly training and having to take a charge for the good of the world if he had Major Potential. Besides, he thought he was making the world a better place through music. But yeah, not with changing how damaged people were. He couldn’t fix people like that. No one magical could do that, well, not without terrible ramifications. No matter how much you wanted to. People have to want to fix themselves.

*****

Brendon took the whole fairy godparent thing in stride, just like Brendon handled pretty much everything. Brendon barely even blinked when Spencer told him. Just accepted it and moved on, hug and all. Like if Spence wasn’t going to freak out then Brendon wouldn’t either. Of course, Brendon did get himself turned into a werewolf, which Spencer was kicking himself about, but only a little. So, maybe he hadn’t fully processed that Spencer wasn’t exactly human. Brendon only occasionally asked Spencer seemingly random questions. 

“You’re here!” Brendon exclaimed, and then his eyebrows shot up in comprehension. “You’re here because I thought about wanting you here, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Spencer answered, walking inside Brendon’s house, and kissing Brendon in greeting, then scratching behind Bogart’s ears. 

“Is that how it works? Your fairy thing? I think about you being here and you get like a mental request email or something? Like a telegram?” Brendon asked, looking torn about something.

“My nose itches when you want me near you and I was in the neighborhood, so...” Spencer shrugged.

“You didn’t _have_ to come though, right? I didn’t like somehow make you,” Brendon said, looking like that would be the worst thing ever. Of course, he understood having some of his choices taken away. He didn’t choose to sprout fur and go gallivanting around his house three nights out of the month as a wolf. 

“No,” Spencer answered, smiling reassuringly. “Like, I could have ignored it and maybe sneezed a little, but I wanted to come to you. I would have called if I was busy and had to make you wait.”

“Oh.” Brendon smiled, sheepishly, ruffling his hair a bit. “Good.” Then he frowned.

Spencer placed a kiss in the corner of Brendon’s mouth. “Yeah, ‘oh.’ I can totally tell you no to things. I’ve been doing it for years.”

Spencer started toward the kitchen, Bogart shadowing him. 

“Yeah, but not on the big things. Not on important, shattering things, though. You could have said no when I asked you to stay in the band right?” Brendon asked in a rush, voice small and just this side of terrified.

Spencer froze and turned around. “I made the choice I wanted to make, Bren.”

“But you could have said no?” Brendon asked again and he even looked terrified. Like if Spencer hadn’t had a choice in it then it would be even worse than if Spencer had left on purpose. 

Spencer stepped back into his space and cupped Brendon’s face in his hands. “I could have. I could have followed Ryan out. But I didn’t. Because I wanted to stay. I wanted to play drums and be in a band with one of my best friends.” Spencer’s heart was thudding in his chest. He almost said _because I couldn’t imagine not staying with you. I couldn’t imagine telling you no ever. Not something like this. Not something important._

“ _Spence_.” Brendon’s voice sounded like he could hear everything that Spencer was not saying. He nodded and rested his forehead against Spencer’s. “Good.”

“So, do you want pancakes or not?” Spencer asked, casually, proud at how level his voice sounded.

“Fuck yes,” Brendon replied, beaming. “Please, let’s have magical pancakes.”

*****

“Hey, Spencer?” Brendon asked from where he was bent over a notebook. His glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and Spencer resisted the urge to get up and walk across the room to push them up Brendon’s face.

“What Brendon?” Spencer twirled a drumstick instead and thought about how maybe more high-hat for the verse, but maybe not.

“Do you somehow magic my pens?” Brendon asked.

“Huh.” Spencer stopped moving, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I always, _always_ have something to write with. And it’s usually the same old rinky-dink pen, which is my favorite, but it should have totally run out of ink ages ago, or been left in some café, or fallen out of my pocket, like that one time in London—I saw that happen. But nope, here it is.” Brendon brandished the pen in his hand, gesturing at Spencer with it, all gnawed-on tip and all.

“Yeah, I might keep an eye out for such things,” Spencer admitted and felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“That’s totally and completely awesome, Spence,” Brendon said, completely serious. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Spencer managed.

Brendon smiled and went back to rearranging song lyrics.

****

They’re hanging out in the backyard by the pool, the crescent moon overhead and the crickets chirping. Brendon was smoking a cigarette and Spencer was wishing he could see more stars. 

“Would you have ever told me?” Brendon asked. He didn’t sound hurt, but his eyebrows were furrowed. 

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “Probably not. I was never supposed to. I can’t tell humans, in general.”

“You told Ryan,” Brendon observed, which almost sounded like _you told your human best friend._ Not accusing, just noting loyalties. 

“I didn’t actually tell him,” Spencer countered. “He figured it out. I wasn’t always the best at hiding when I was little.”

He thought he had been, but Ryan had never been stupid and had pretty much figured it out. Of course, that was before Spencer magically patched up Ryan’s leg after one gnarly bicycle accident. Fixing Ryan’s leg was the only thing Spencer could think to do. There had been so much blood and they were both pretty freaked out. Ryan had been thinking that Spencer was a robot. It was a bit of a surprise. But there were times after that when Ryan would have this look. A look almost like he was angry, but it would slip back off his face before Spencer could study it. Things hadn’t felt as easy between them after that. 

Spencer snapped back to the present and looked at Brendon, really looked. Brendon looked kind of sad, but like he understood. 

“And then I became a werewolf and could smell that you were different.” Brendon shrugged and stubbed out his cigarette.

Spencer turned his face to look at the moon’s reflection in the pool. “That’s the thing though,” he said, quietly after a few moments.

“What?” Brendon asked. Spencer could feel Brendon’s eyes on him. 

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently. Like I should fix everything for you. Like you could maybe hold it against me. And I didn’t want you to look at me like I’m something else,” Spencer admitted.

Brendon twined his fingers in Spencer’s. “That makes some of the barbs Ryan threw at you make a lot more sense actually,” Brendon said lightly.

“Yeah,” Spencer scoffed, or tried to and Brendon gave his hand a squeeze. It still hurt a little. He was trying to let it heal, but it would take time. 

“I can’t say it wouldn’t have freaked me out if you had told me before,” Brendon said. “Maybe I would or wouldn’t. I don’t think I would, but I would never have tried to hold it against you. And I’d like to think if I had known back in high school, the most I would have done would have been ask for magical food preparation, but I was kinda stubborn, so I probably wouldn’t have even asked then.”

“Lucky for me, you stayed exhausted enough that sneaking food into your cupboards wasn’t something you noticed much of,” Spencer said wryly. 

“I might’ve wondered how I always seemed to have mac n’ cheese when I would’ve sworn I’d just fixed the last box,” Brendon said thoughtfully.

“Whatever,” Spencer chuckled.

“Seriously though,” Brendon said after a few minutes of quiet. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Sure,” Spencer said and for the first time in a while, he thought, maybe he could have a little happy ever after after all.


End file.
